Optimism
by kepulver
Summary: G1 era; Optimus Prime meets with Huffer and discovers there's more to the cynical minibot that would appear.


**Optimism**

"You-you wanted to see me, Prime?" Huffer stood in the doorway of Prime's office, looking as if he were standing on the edge of the Smelting Pits.

For a moment, Prime seriously considered saying 'no' and sending Huffer to see Ironhide or Red Alert. He could easily have come up with an excuse -- there _were_ plenty of other things that he needed to be doing, disciplining Huffer could legitimately delegated.

But, no, he'd accepted the responsibility for himself and he was duty-bound to see it through. No shirking, no wiggling out of it, no handing this chore off to someone else no matter how much Huffer's voice grated on his neural circuitry like a rat-tail file.

"Yes, Huffer, come in please." Prime attempted to modulate his tone, working hard to keep his voice at least neutral, if not soothing. Not that soothing did much good around Huffer.

"Yes Prime." Huffer sighed and trudged into the office, flinching as the door shut behind him. Prime resisted the urge to sigh himself.

"You understand why you're here, correct?" Prime had already decided to forego any pleasantries, better to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"Yes Prime," Huffer said, meekly. "I didn't show up for a scheduled watch shift. I'm sorry, it-it won't happen again, I swear. And I know I've been late for some of my duties but I am sorry and I swear I will be better about being more punctual."

"You've never missed a shift before," Prime said, cutting Huffer off preemptively. "This behavior, it's not like you and while we were lucky that it hasn't caused a problem yet, the fact remains that it cannot be allowed to continue. Red Alert feels your behavior is raising a few red flags --"

"I am _not_ a traitor!" Huffer's optics flashed and his fists clenched and unclenched. "It's nothing to worry about, Prime. Of all people, Red Alert should know better than to make baseless accusations!"

"He's not accusing you of anything, Huffer," Prime said. 'No one is. But we are concerned. This sort of behavior is unlike you; if it's something to do with you and Pipes, I can certainly understand but..."

"It's nothing to do with Pipes!" Huffer's optics flashed again. "I'm not some lovestruck idiot who can't go two shifts without -- without --"

"It's all right, Huffer, no need to explain. Really." Prime willed the images trying to form in his visual processor to stop. He prided himself on knowing his troops well, but there were things he simply did not want to know. Ever. "But if it's not that -- what is it? What's going on?"

Huffer hesitated, the heat of his anger fading back into his usual fretfulness. His optics dimmed almost to the point of shut down. "I-I'm rebuilding Cybertron."

Prime's optics blinked and he replayed Huffer's words over his internal audial circuit. "In...your quarters?"

"Yes, in simulation. I -- really, it's just speculation on my part, nothing definite but I've been drawing plans for it. Material lists, personnel estimates, resources needed. It's just...I think we can save a lot of the existing infrastructure. I've been studying some of the work the humans are doing in areas of high seismic activity. There are certain principles I think we can apply to Cybertron's core that might allow us to reclaim a lot of the Deep Zones."

Prime sat back, listening as Huffer turned sharply and headed toward a stretch of wall. The minibot pulled out a grease pencil and began making a sketch on the wall, explaining as he drew.

As he listened, Prime found himself fascinated -- not only by the plans, which seemed sensible and solid, but also by the change that came over Huffer.

For one thing, Huffer's whine was gone -- or more correctly, had faded into the precise and knowledgeable tones of a master craftsman explaining his work to an untrained observer.

_Was this what he sounded like before the War?_ Prime wondered as Huffer paused, seeming to realize that he'd been lecturing.

"I'm sorry." Huffer looked at his sketch, embarrassed even as he reached out to correct a line. "I-I'll clean that wall, Prime, I just get carried away. That's why I was late, that's why I've been distracted. Not that it excuses me, but that's why it happened, I just had to see how my simulation played out. I..I'm sorry. Whatever punishment you give me, I deserve it."

"Huffer, can I ask _why_ you're working on this?" It was Prime's turn to be embarrassed now. I-we don't know when the war will end. It could be vorn before we could ever implement these plans." Prime paused, then forced himself to continue, to speak the unspeakable. "Worse, the war may never end -- we may never be able to implement your plan."

"I know." The bleakness in Huffer's voice was back. It made Prime want to shake him, to order him not to give in so easily. "But, Prime, what if the war does end? What if it ends tomorrow? Or next year? Or even if it doesn't end for another vorn or two or ten, shouldn't we be ready? Shouldn't we have a plan in place for what we'll do next?"

Prime stared at Huffer. He would not have been more surprised if Slag had walked into the room and began reciting the Covenant of Primus in Old High Cybertronian.

"You're right," Prime said finally. "You are absolutely right. Have you shown these plans to Hoist or Grapple?"

Huffer let out an anxious squawk. "Oh, no! No! They're not ready for that! Not even close to being ready for a peer review! I'd have to review them first, finalize some of the details, shore up some places where I was simply speculating. I just have so much left to do to finish them, I couldn't possibly show them to anyone yet!"

"I see." Prime considered. "Would a week confined to your quarters give you enough time?"

Huffer frowned. "I'd prefer two. Just so I could be sure."

"Two it is. You'll be provided any thing you need: information, materials, anything else you require but you will stay in your quarters and you will finish those plans." Prime chuckled. "Smokescreen wasn't quite as clever about loading his latest set of dice -- or in thinking the Dinobots couldn't figure simple probabilities, so he will be your nominal guard and go-for. Dismissed."

"Yessir, thank you Prime!"

"No, Huffer, thank you."


End file.
